


More Than That

by mipex



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a lot of that in here, god tamer's only briefly mentioned and never actually named, monomon only shows up in memories and isn't really talked about a lot (so far atleast), this is KIND OF a fixit fic. tiso dying? i do not see it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mipex/pseuds/mipex
Summary: A certain pillbug traverses through the Kingdom's edge and stumbles upon a Warrior's badly wounded carcass. He decides to help him out.
Relationships: Quirrel & Tiso (Hollow Knight), Quirrel/Tiso (Hollow Knight), The Knight & Quirrel (Hollow Knight), The Knight & Tiso (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 102





	1. Mossy Cove

The first thing he felt was pain. 

Screaming,  _ searing _ pain coursing through his midsection. It definitely wasn't as worse as before, but to say the feeling was anything around uncomfortable was a severe understatement. 

He managed to shift around into a more comfortable position, feeling his surroundings in the process. He slowly opened one of his eyes, the light around him was blinding at first as he adjusted to it. His vision blurred to reveal he was in some kind of mossy cove, laying on top of a damp sheet of tangled vines. The sheet looked to be messy, but not as unkempt as the space around it. Someone must’ve uncoiled most of it.

A blanket of moss like plants covered his sprawled out figure as light beads of water dripped from the roof of the cove and onto the matted floor. He opened his other eye, blinking both to regain his eyesight. 

“Unnhgh.” The groan slipped from his mouth as he tentatively moved his arms to hold himself up, sitting down and laying on the wall of the cove. He shifted the blanket off, looking down at himself to see his midsection was covered entirely in bandages. He hesitantly poked at his waist with a finger, the wound responding to the touch with an instant jolt of pain. He jolted against the wall, breathing heavily against the pain of the injury.  Why was there a wound? What happened? He shifted against the moss, his body ached with every move he made. He looked back down onto the lush floor as he tried to recall what had happened.  He was in Hallownest, right? Yes, he had made it to his destination. Gotten to the Colosseum, too? No- yes, it was starting to clear up now. He remembered getting there- the Colosseum, he'd completed the first two trials, and was almost done with the third one. There were three, right?

-

_ Wiping the beads of sweat off of his forehead with his free arm, the adrenaline in his system pumped through his veins and followed the beat of the cheering crowd surrounding him. _ _ Their cheers roared throughout the colosseum, their hunger for entertainment satisfied by his fighting.  _ _ He was almost finished, yes. Just a little longer. Just a few more rounds, surely. His body felt tired, and ached with soreness each time he threw his shield. His legs screamed at him to rest, to sit down, but he couldn't rest now. He was almost done, so close to completing the trial and achieving his dreams. He was a warrior, a fierce one, and he could manage for as long as they needed him to. _

_ His shield ricocheted off of the last remaining fool in the arena with him as they fell to their side. He caught his shield perfectly, spinning the blades open and striking the fool as hemolymph poured out of their broken husk and onto the already stained ground. The crowd cheered, the drums pounded and his chest felt heavy. One more. Just one more round. _

_ The crowd calmed down as the drums slowed their steady rhythm. The gate started to open, and he quickly turned to face the cloud of smoke following its wake.  _

_ Something was there. No- Someone, and their footsteps loudly pounded against the Colosseum's floor as their figure became more visible. A beast clawed its way into the arena, six beady orange eyes staring directly at him, infection dripping from its interior. Mounted on top, its rider carried a large lance on their back, yelling out a loud cry before jumping off and slamming the lance's blade inches away from him. He dashed just out of reach and the crowd roared again. The drums continued their intense beat as he scrambled to get away from his opponent. _

_ No- No. He could do this- He was so close. Don't falter, keep going. _

_ They tried again, jumping towards him and slamming their lance against his shield.  _ _ He opened it, the spinning blades spewing sparks against the metal lance _ _. The weapon was quickly descending down on him as he struggled to fight them off. He turned his head to face the beast now facing him, its orange eyes bubbling before it spat globs of infection into the arena, almost splashing onto him as he managed to move away from the incoming infection. His opponent didn't stall though, continuing to beat down on him with their lance, his shield's inner structure coming undone with all of the pressure. He screamed, scrambling away from them and gripping his broken shield towards their blows as they struck his waist, sickly colored hemolymph splattering onto him before he released he had been hit. They continued to strike him with their blade as he held onto his shield, its pieces falling apart onto the ground. The crowd continued to roar, laughing at his damaged state as they chanted at him, their poorly tended fingers pointing at him as they shouted. "Fool, Fool,  _ **_FOOL, FOOL!-"_ **

**_-_ **

Tiso jumped as he heard a small creaking noise from in front of him, looking up to see a blue-hooded bug, with the anatomy of a pillbug, holding various items in their hands. He glared at them, gripping the moss as a warning for them not to come close to him. Though he doubted that he could fend them off if they did decide to attack him in this state. 

The pillbug gently closed the door, setting down the items onto the moss before they faced him. "I see you're awake. Do you feel any better?" The pillbug asked, careful not to speak too loud as they sat down in front of him. Tiso stared at him, folding his arms as he refused to give him an answer. "A stubborn one, hm? Don't worry, I don't mind.” He reached over for the items, grabbing a roll of bandages before nodding towards Tiso. "Do at least give me a nod, yes? I need to reapply the gauze to your wound," He pointed towards his bandaged waist. "If you haven't noticed, they get very bloody over time." He did have a point, his midsection was almost entirely colored olive green, stained with his own blood. He recoiled, ruffling his mandibles in disgust.

The pillbug laughed, walking over and crouching down next to him. He set down the roll, reaching out for the dried bandages on his waist before he stopped. "..Do you mind if I..?" Oh. his arms were in the way. Tiso unfolded his arms, allowing him to start taking the bandages off. He grit his teeth, even if they weren’t touching the wound directly, it still hurt regardless.  The pillbug took notice, taking off the bandages more gently. "Sorry, I'm trying to avoid the gash." Tiso hummed in acknowledgement, turning away from him.

They continued to take off the bloodied gauze, making sure not to touch near Tiso's wound. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as he continued.

"So, who are you?" The pillbugs speaking startled Tiso, who was beginning to drift off back into sleep. "I don't mean to pry into anything personal, but I found your almost deceased corpse near the bottom of the Kingdom's edge. I expect there to be a very thrilling story behind that, mm?"  He set the dirtied bandages onto the ground, grabbing the roll of newer ones as he began to unravel them. "That isn't any of your business." Tiso spoke sharply, frowning.  "Ah, apologies. At the least, tell me your name?" He asked, sounding slightly sympathetic.

"It's.. Tiso." He sighed, shifting slightly to allow the bug more access to the bandages.

"Ah, I've heard about you before, I'm sure. The little knight, do you know them?" The bug spoke so softly, his eyes focused onto Tiso. It was like they weren't even paying attention to bandaging him properly, but his hands were quick and worked effortlessly as he spoke.

"They have a broken down nail, and two sharp horns? They've told me about someone like you." 

Tiso thought for a moment, continuing to shift around to allow the bug more leverage.  They'd talked about him? And to the stranger that had coincidentally been the one to seemingly rescue him from certain death? That wasn't fair, the bug knew more about Tiso than Tiso knew about them. He hadn't even gotten their name yet.

"That pale thing? Yes. Of course I have, everyone here I've met so far has seen them at least once." He sneered, his usual nasally tone bit back rudely.

"Hmm. I haven't talked to many bugs here, you seem like a chatty type." The bug was really teasing him about being stubborn before? Tiso glared at him in response, gripping the moss a little more tightly. "Oh, Shut it." He snapped, turning to face the bug to hear them crack a small chuckle.

"Hey, I still haven't gotten your name yet." 

"Oh!" The bug smiled. "It's Quirrel." 

"Well, Quirrel," Tiso emphasized, "Tell me where the hell I am. I wake up in some mossy carpet and some weird bug comes in and starts taping up my scar with weird medical stuff. Who the hell are you?!” Quirrel was taken aback from how difficult the bug- ant, he's presumed -was being with him. He expected a challenge, yes, the bug he decided to rescue  _ was _ one that participated in the colosseum's foolish trials, but he never expected him to be so rude to someone who had saved his life. 

"Shh, lower your voice." Quirrel gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Tiso shifted away from it. "I understand you're confused, but I promise nothing here is a threat to you."  Despite how stressed Tiso was, Quirrel's voice was oddly comforting, and he didn't feel very threatened by the other at all.

"I'm just a simple wanderer, I have a destination that I-" Quirrel stopped talking, reaching up and placing his free hand atop his hood, moving it around as if to feel around for something that wasn't there. "I- Ah- Uhm-" He stuttered, searching for the right words as a worried expression crossed his face beneath his mask. "Well- I had a destination, I suppose. Now I just... wander about." Quirrel's hand fell back to his side, picking the roll of gauze back up and throwing it by the other pile of medical supplies before he turned back up to face Tiso. "I was exploring this one path though, absolutely littered with corpses and ash that I felt like I really had to leave. I ended up finding your body there and somehow you were still alive."  Tiso thought for a moment, turning his head back to face the ground. But he had died, hadn't he? He knew when warriors had failed to complete a trial, their dead body was taken and thrown off into the acid pits below the colosseum. Did he just survive for that long and hit a cliff before he reached the acid? Maybe he was just lucky. No, he didn't just get lucky, he survived for that long, having been stabbed and all! He was a warrior! Of course he wasn't going to die that  easily-

Quirrel continued to talk over Tiso's thinking. "I brought you to an area I knew was safe and managed to patch up your wounds a bit. It won't heal overnight, if anything, it'll take more than a few weeks. Though you should still be grateful that you're alive."

_ - _ And he wasn't going to let some stupid pillbug take care of him. He could take care of himself. He needed to get back to the colosseum and finish that trial, and he wasn't going to wait more than a few weeks for it.

He took a deep breath, grunting as he pushed his knees up and hoisted himself into a standing

position, almost falling over as he threw his arm onto the wall to keep himself from falling. "Hey- Wait, you shouldn't be walking yet, you still need to let it heal-" "Shut.. U-Up." Tiso managed to slur out, his chest throbbed with pain and his body ached, but he needed to get back there. They  _ had _ to let him compete.

Quirrel grabbed him by the waist, careful not to touch around his injuries, but still holding onto him with enough force to pick him up and set him back down onto the ground. Tiso made an effort to try and push Quirrel off, shouting various profanities and insults at him in the process. Who knew he'd be this stubborn?

"I know you're very eager to return to whatever it was you were doing before you almost got yourself _ killed, _ but please at least take a day or two to let your wounds heal." Quirrel managed to properly hold Tiso down, and despite him being very dangerously injured, he was still able to fight back pretty well. Tiso was persistent, and even if he knew that he couldn't really pack much of a punch in this state, he continued to try and hit Quirrel multiple times, but it didn't really hurt him at all. It just felt like he was play-fighting.

Tiso threw multiple blows onto Quirrel, none of which actually left anything more than a sting. "You don't-'' He threw another punch to the side of Quirrel’s face. "Understand!- I need to get back to the colosseum!"  _ 'Oh.'  _ passed Quirrel's mind as Tiso yelled. So he _was_ after the colosseum. "They think I'm dead!" Tiso continued to scratch at him before Quirrel pinned his arm down too. 

"You will be if you don't let it heal!-" He nearly got hit with an elbow to the face. "Look- I'll help you get back there, just- stay still for at least an hour and let it heal!" A fist almost collided with the other side of his head. "Think about it, would you be able to properly fight like this? Let alone against what you nearly died to?"  Tiso finally let off, letting his limbs flop to the floor and let out an exaggerated groan. "If I stay here for a day, and let my wounds- _which will be totally cool battle scars_ , mind you, heal, then you'll show me the way back to the colosseum?"

_ "Two days." _

" _ TWO  _ days then, and you'll show me the way back to the colosseum?"

_ "I will." _

"And you're not just gonna trick me or anything? This is a real promise?"

_ "I have no reason to trick you." _

"Fair.”

Quirrel got off of him, extending his arm over to Tiso. He didn't take it, and instead proceeded to try and push himself up. Quirrel sighed, reaching back down and picking Tiso up by the waist, setting him down onto the moss bed. 

He let out a yawn, leaning back onto the wall and sliding down to sit next to Tiso. He shifted around to find a softer spot in the moss and looked over to where Tiso laid, facing the wall. “Do you mind if I nap here for a bit? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He pulled his hood over his head, crossing his arms to sit more comfortably as he waited for Tiso’s response. Tiso didn’t make an effort to turn around to face Quirrel, continuing to stare at the wall as he let out a groan in acknowledgement. 

“So.. I’m assuming that means yes?” 

“..MMnm.”

“Well, goodnight to you too.”


	2. Lukewarm Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost pays a visit.

Tiso’s snoring was _tolerable_ , to say the least. Only bothering Quirrel slightly as he sleepily shifted into a position where he wouldn’t be able to hear it as loudly as before.

And then it got louder, and continued to get more bothersome until it awoke Quirrel from his rest, groggily lifting his head from his knees. 

It was dark in the room, the only light source was coming outside from Greenpath. It was only slightly visible through the door crack, dimly lighting up parts of the cove. The unwrapped bandages were in the same place he left them, the hemolymph only somewhat faded.

He stood up, yawning and stretching out his arms. He glimpsed over at Tiso, who was still fast asleep, snoring even louder than before. He was noticeably uncomfortable, shifting around under the moss covered blanket as it itched at his chitin. 

At least he was sleeping. Quirrel sighed, moving over to re-adjust the blanket on him to a more comfortable patch of the moss. Tiso stirred for a moment, prompting Quirrel to quickly back away before realizing he was just shifting into a more snug position again. 

If Quirrel had chosen to save a warrior, he sure chose an odd one. He snored loudly and put up such a fight over letting his wounds heal, that he would probably end up nearly dead again if Quirrel chose to let him go on his own. He found it irritating, bothersome, but he didn’t mind much. What mattered to him most was that the ant's life wasn’t in any danger, and that he had saved him from what could've been a very miserable death. 

He hadn’t known Tiso for long, but had already come to the conclusion that he was a bit rude. Despite that, Quirrel had taken a liking to him; the ant put up a good fight, and even though he _was_ insolent, he didn't seem to be completely unfriendly. Maybe he could even become acquainted with him better in the future.

Quirrel hummed, observing Tiso for a while longer before crouching down to grab the pile of dried bandages, opening the door of the cove and swiftly closing it behind him. Hopefully he didn’t let in too much light, he had a feeling it would be uncomfortable for the other. 

Something tugged from the back of his mind. ‘ _Shit.’_ Memories? He let it slowly come back to him, uncertainty plaguing his mind. 

-

_“Most ants have really poor eyesight, and are able to see much better in the darkness.”_

_She continued to glide her pen over the acidic substance, leaving florid, brightly colored markings on the glass tube. “Majority of them wear hoods or helmets to block out the light.” She spun around to face him, the hem of her umbrella-like body twirled upward along with her. Leaning over, she pulled his hood down over his face playfully._

_“Are you an ant, Quirrel?” She teased, patting the top of his head with one of her tentacles. “You sure do wear that hood often, I’ve observed.”_ _He smiled in response, pulling his hood back up to face her. She smiled underneath her mask, before breaking into a small fit of laughter._

_Quirrel looked at her, playful confusion present in his voice. “What’s so funny?”_ _She swiftly reached back up to pull his hood over his head again. He scrambled to take it off, glaring at her. “Oh come on, it isn’t that amusing.”_

_She continued to laugh, struggling to properly talk to him as laughter danced at the tip of her voice._

_“Pfft- You looked hysterical!”_

_“Well, aren’t you in a fun mood today?”_

_“Perhaps I am, regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that you look utterly adorable.”_

_-_

_“I-_ huh?” Quirrel blinked and snapped out of the memory, looking around frantically as he recollected where he was. He sighed, looking back down at the wrinkled bandages heaped together in his hands.

Fuck. He hated them-- The memories. As much as he repressed and tried to forget them, they never went away. They were clear as glass, the times he had spent with her. His whole life, almost. 

He missed her-- he missed Monomon. It had been years since he’d talked to her- Years before she went to sleep. 

He shook his head, shaking away the thought. He didn’t like reminiscing those times. Even if the memories were happy, everytime he thought of them he had to fight back the urge to cry. They were memories, after all. It was better to leave them in the past.

He was abruptly taken out of his thoughts, a little tug at his leg prompting him to glance down as he found Ghost at his feet.

“Oh! Little Ghost! I didn’t notice you there, I apologize.”

They back looked up at Quirrel, bringing up their stubby hands as they began to sign to him. 

‘ _You’ve been standing still for the past few minutes.’_

Minutes? He’d only just gotten out here.

“I was just-- going to throw this old gauze away,” He glanced down at his hand. “I’d just gotten a little distracted by the plentiful scenery. It’s quite a quaint place, you know.”

Ghost shrugged, perking up their head to get a small view of the bandages Quirrel had been holding. They pointed to them, gazing back up at Quirrel questionably. Quirrel looked back down at them. “Oh- these? Ah, it’s a long story.” 

Even though Ghost couldn’t exactly express emotion with the shell they wore, he could feel them glaring at him. Quirrel sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood to explain anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to show them the certain bug he managed to save. He recalled they had told him about Tiso, so they should be able to recognize him on their own.

“Alright, fine. Here.” Quirrel trudged back over to the front of the cove, lightly pushing the door open as Ghost ran over to peek through the crack. 

He could practically hear how overjoyed they were, their feet rapidly patting against the floor excitedly as they began to push the door open more. He closed it before they could get any further, shoving them away from the entrance. 

“I know you’re excited to see him, but I’m sure you can tell he isn’t well. He’s been in an awful accident and still needs time to recover.” To be truthful, Quirrel had no clue what had caused Tiso to become _this_ injured. He knew it had something to do with the colosseum, and despite not knowing him well, it hurt him to know that he’d agreed to take him back there. He just might be leading this poor fool back to relive his death. He quickly stuffed the thought into the back of his mind. Now was not the time to worry.

“You can come back later, okay?” He reached over, lightly patting the top of the vessel’s head.  
Before he could return to throwing away the bandages, --which were horribly held together, almost completely dried over with dirt and hemolymph-- Ghost tugged on his leg again.

He sighed. “As much as I’d love to help you with whatever you’re having trouble with, I--” Quirrel was cut off as Ghost shoved a bundle of mushrooms and a rancid egg into his arms. 

Ghost continued to sign to him, _‘If you’re going to take care of him, wouldn’t you need to make food for him too?’_

Oh, he’d nearly forgotten about that. He knew how to cook, but he rarely needed to eat, so he would definitely be a bit rusty. He could manage though, a simple soup would be easy to make. 

_‘You do know how to, right?’_

“Of course I do, soup isn’t that challenging to put together.”

_‘I never said I was talking about soup.’_

“Oh, shush. Shouldn’t you be going somewhere?” He glanced back down at Ghost, who had already disappeared. He heard a clang from behind him, turning around and looking up towards the grassy cliffs to see Ghost slamming their nail against the stone and waving down at him. He stifled a chuckle, waving back up at them as before they disappeared behind the greenery.

He set the materials down by the door before he started making his way toward the acid pools. After he got rid of these dirtied bandages, maybe he’d have the chance to make something nice for himself and possibly for his guest, too.

-

Waking up was a lot less painful this time, his midsection only stung faintly, the pain from before had worn away greatly.

He opened his eyes, the blur faded away rather quickly to reveal Quirrel’s face hovering above him. “Oh gods, you’re finally awake again.” He could hear Quirrel’s panicked voice from above him. “You scared me for a while there, I knew you were still alive, but you slept in for an awfully long time.” 

“Wha..? What are you talking about? How long?”

Tiso attempted to sit up, a jolt of pain shot through his back. He yelped, collapsing back onto the moss with a thump. Quirrel suppressed a laugh, and Tiso glared at him while Quirrel picked him up by the underarms and propped him up into a sitting position against the wall. 

Quirrel continued. “About a day or so. Time isn’t that easy to track down here.” He glanced back down at the bandages on Tiso’s waist, drawing out a hand as if to start removing them again before he stopped. “Do you mind if I replace them again?” 

“What? I have to put _more_ on there? Aren’t bandages supposed to last a long time?” Tiso sneered, pushing Quirrel’s hand away forcefully.

“Usually, yes.” Quirrel sighed. This was going to be difficult. “Need I remind you that your midriff was nearly cut in half? You were drenched in your own haemo.” 

“Aand..?” Tiso gave him a confused look.“I’m doing perfectly fine now! I don’t see why I need even _more_ gauze.”

“That certainly wasn’t the case when you tried to get up a few moments ago.” Quirrel smiled, earning an exasperated huff from Tiso. 

“Okay, well, regardless, it’s been a day, hasn’t it? You’ve gotta let me go back to the colosseum now.” Tiso took a deep breath and stood up, ignoring the sudden pain in his body the best he could. He managed to take a few painful steps before Quirrel lightly pushed Tiso back, the subtle force sending him back to his previous position on the vegetation. Tiso dug his claws into the moss, eyeing Quirrel angrily as he took a seat next to him. 

“You said I only had to stay for a day.”

“ _Two_ days, don’t think I’d forget.” 

“I don’t care how long, you’ve seen that I’m fine now.” He folded his arms, claws tapping at them impatiently.

“Tiso, you’re still bleeding horribly.” He pointed to the now stained gauze on his waist. “Like I said, this is a deep cut, and there is no possibility that it would heal overnight like that.” 

Tiso sighed, unfolding his arms. He brought his hand up to his waist and poked at it reluctantly. He pulled back immediately and scrunched up his face, gritting his teeth as he drew a sharp breath. 

“Fuck.. Okay.” He sighed. “How long until it heals enough for me to walk without feeling like I’m going to fucking pass out?” 

Quirrel chuckled, earning another elbow in the side from Tiso. 

“Well, I’m not completely sure,” Quirrel brought a finger to his chin, thinking, “But, if I’m recalling correctly, I’m certain that if I could get you to a hot spring, the soul in the water could help your wound heal much quicker.” 

“And how far away is the nearest one..?”

“The safest option I know is in the city.”

“That’s--” Tiso let out a defeated sigh. “That’s so far away.” 

“Mmh, it’s your best bet.”

“You _better_ be right about that soul water thing.”

Quirrel laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s called soul water for a reason. There’s no cause as to why it wouldn’t assist in healing you.”

“Fine. I trust you.”

“Wonderful!” Quirrel smiled before turning around and reaching for something by the side of the moss bedding. “Apologies, I forgot to give you something--” His voice was strained as he attempted to reach his arms a bit farther than that was possible. 

“Take your time.” Tiso deadpanned. 

Moments later, Quirrel rose back up, holding a bowl with what looked to be the contents of a soup inside it. It was lukewarm, a small bit of steam pouring out in small waves from the top. 

“I was able to scavenge a few measly ingredients to put together a small soup.” He handed it to Tiso, who took it from his hands almost immediately. “If you aren’t severely allergic to anything, I suggest-” He stopped talking, seeing as Tiso was already dumping the contents of the bowl down his throat without a second thought. Was he always _this_ hungry?

“Well, I’m glad to know you aren’t starving anymore.” He let up an amused smile, grabbing the bowl from Tiso and gently tugging it away from his face. “C’mon, don’t eat like that. I know you're hungry, but if you drink all of it down like that you’re going to throw it all up again.” 

Tiso pulled the bowl back, sipping out the last of the contents before passing it back to Quirrel. 

“Gimme a break. It’s been about a day since I’ve eaten, I’m allowed to eat how _I_ want to.” Tiso sighed contentedly, shifting back into a lying position on the moss bed. Quirrel got up, still holding the bowl in his hands. “Go take a small rest, okay? I’ll replace your bandages after you awaken.”

And with that, he left the small cavern, slightly closing the door to let in a small bit of light. Tiso relaxed into the foliage, closing his eyes as his fingers lightly dabbled with the leaves around him.

He would hopefully get better-- No, he _will_ get better. After his wound finishes healing, he’s going back to the colosseum refreshed and ready to fight. Tiso was determined to go back and win. He even considered sharing a portion of his future winnings with his new companion.

He quickly attempted to stop thinking about that even being a possibility. What a dumb thought.  
Although, as he pondered about it a bit more, he was slowly warming up to the idea that maybe, just maybe, the thought wasn’t so dumb after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late to update! I got hit with writer's block and it really wore me down for awhile ):  
> [ beta-read yet again by my friend @/frozen.hotdogs on insta! ]


	3. Bottled Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needed comfort, and that was okay.

“I _told_ you! You can see him- _Ack--_ Later!” 

The first thing Tiso heard upon waking up was Quirrel’s strained yelling followed by the repetitive sounds of something slamming against the ground, echoing slightly throughout the tiny cavern. Not a good sign. Not at all.

He quickly sat up, ignoring the strike of sharp pain that shot through his back. The drowsy blur faded as he blinked his eyes rapidly to see clearly, and was met with a very agitated Quirrel attempting to drag Ghost (who was flailing around and smacking their nail against the dirt.) out of the cave by their cloak.

He opened his mouth to speak, bits and pieces of excess moss still clung to his face from his sleep.“..What? Why is that... pale thing here..?”

Both of the bugs froze, turning to face Tiso almost immediately. It was silent for a moment, and Ghost was the first to start moving again, wildly waving their hand in his direction. Tiso brought his hand up and awkwardly waved back, a confused look creeping onto his face. 

Why was that little squib here? They were literally jumping with enthusiasm when they noticed he was awake. Why? He barely knew them-- Not at all, really. They never gave him a response when he talked to them. Were they _that_ lonely? Did they just consider him to be their friend after his sharp mannerisms towards them? Geez.

Quirrel let out a small sigh and let go of Ghost’s cloak, prompting them to rush over to Tiso’s side, peering up at him with their empty gaze. Though, even if their gaze _was_ empty, anyone could tell that they were absolutely enthused to see him-- regardless of the condition he was in.

Tiso groaned, rubbing one of his still drowsy eyes with the back of his hand. “Little squib.” 

Ghost beamed.

“It seems as if you wanted to see me?” The vessel nodded rapidly. “Why?” He turned to face Ghost, who brought out their arms as if they were going to talk to him through sign. Shit- He didn’t know sign language. No wonder they didn’t talk to him, at least not in a language he understood. Tiso was an ant-- His colony never taught him anything other than their own language because that’s all they needed to know. Wyrm-Tongue was only something he knew because of those weird tablets that led up to the cliffs. It wasn’t told to him that Hallownest was one of the kingdoms that used more than one language.

He promptly looked over to Quirrel, who calmly sat by the corner of the room. Quirrel quickly noticed Tiso’s panicked face.

“What?” 

“Ermm- Could you..translate? I don’t know sign language.”

Quirrel glanced back up at Tiso, a look of amusement slipping through his face before he started laughing, bright and lively. Despite the situation he was in, Tiso let himself smile for a second. It was.. kind of cute? Normally he didn't think about this stuff. It was dumb, distracted him from the things that were more important. He didn't need stupid sappy thoughts.

He shook it out of his head, but Quirrel took notice of his grin.

"Oh, you think it's funny as well?"

Tiso scoffed, quickly folding his grin back into a frown. "Ugh- Just-- Get over here and help me."

"I'm surprised you don't know sign. It's a starter language, is it not?” His gaze landed back onto Tiso. “Weren't you taught it as a child?"

"That's none of your business."

Quirrel hummed in reply, getting up and walking over to lean against the wall Tiso was sitting next to. "Alright then. Little Ghost?"

They lightly shook their head, as if to pretend to clear their throat. Bringing their hands up again, they started signing. Quirrel let his gaze follow them.

“They said that they had found your corpse near the bottom of kingdom’s edge, and--”

“They saw my unconscious bloody body and didn’t do anything about it? They just le—“

“ _They_ aren’t done yet. Please, hold your questions for later.”

Tiso folded his arms against the wavering pain that followed his movements, turning to face Ghost with a sour look.

“-and, thought you had died.” Quirrel coughed, “They admit they didn't know you very well, but with the few travelers they had met in these old ruins, they considered you an acquaintance. A friend, even.”

Quirrel continued to translate their speech, his eyes focused entirely on their movements as he spoke out the translations without much as a glance towards anything else.  
Tiso continued to sit in silence. He paid attention to what Quirrel was saying, but didn’t make much of an effort to cut in.

“They had fought to look on from that and continued to traverse the cliffs. Much later they’d stumbled back to the area they had seen your corpse laying and noticed it had disappeared. They’d panicked and tried to look for you for...” Quirrel squinted at Ghost’s moving arms. Ghost stopped, and Tiso noticed their next hand movements were the same as their last ones. 

“Oh, wyrm. About a few hours.”

Tiso let himself slump over. “Mmh. Now I feel bad about _not dying_.” He tried his best to sound sympathetic, but the sarcastic undertone of his statement danced at the edge of his voice. Quirrel glared at him, and Tiso made an effort to pretend he didn’t notice.

Ghost continued to sign, unaffected by Tiso’s previous statement. Well, they definitely considered him to be a friend, then.

“They’re asking you how you’re feeling as of now.” 

Ghost shook their head, moving closer to Tiso and pointed at the bandages wrapped around his legs. Quirrel sighed. “...And if you needed anything to help you walk for the time being.”

Tiso let out a laugh. “To help me... walk?” Ghost nodded and pointed towards the door.

“They brought you a walking stick.” Quirrel added.

"No, I’m fine.” Tiso stifled another laugh and managed to keep talking. “I'm actually doing pretty well--" He noticed Quirrel’s momentary glance at him, his face held an unamused expression. Tiso continued. "--I'll be back up in no time."

Ghost hopped around in-place as they flapped their arms around. Was that their way of showing their excitement? Tiso let himself smile a little. Even if he thought it was a little pathetic, it felt nice knowing that someone was happy for him. 

Quirrel noticed, but didn’t comment on it. He was glad that Tiso felt happy, who was he to ruin that for him?

Ghost started signing again, and Quirrel had to switch his attention back to them. 

“They’re saying that they must leave now, but that they hope you recover well.” 

And with that, Ghost gave one last wave and disappeared, a tiny cloud of void particles and cut vines flew from the direction they’d dashed from.

Tiso turned back to face Quirrel, confusion spread across his face. “They... brought me a walking stick..?”  
Quirrel couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, do you want to try it out?”  
Tiso frowned. “What, you think I need a walking stick?” 

He had noticed that Tiso’s voice was no longer laced with a sort of anger or stubbornness, his usual rude demeanor towards Quirrel had been slightly let off. Was Tiso beginning to trust him? Or maybe he was just in a good mood. Regardless, it put Quirrel at ease knowing that Tiso was starting to feel more safe with him around.

“Maybe. You still don’t seem to be in the best condition, and if we’re going to try to get you to that hot spring, I doubt I’ll be able to carry you the entire way there.”

Tiso flushed. “Like I’d let you. I’m able to carry myself,” He grunted, pushing himself off the wall and into a standing position. “See?” It was painful, to say the least. He _could_ stand on his own, if he ignored the throbbing soreness of his shaking legs. Which _really_ wasn’t an easy task.

“I-I can walk, too.” Tiso’s voice was filled with the pain he was suppressing, and he didn’t try to hide it.

Quirrel’s expression shifted into one of concern as Tiso started taking small steps, quickly losing his footing. He slipped, and his body plummeted for the floor before Quirrel caught him by the waist. 

Tiso let out a shriek loud enough that Quirrel was sure everyone in Hallownest could’ve heard it. (Even Ghost, from wherever they were at the moment.)

“Shit-- My apologies, you were falling, I didn’t mean to grab your wound-“  
“ _Let--_ Let me _go--_ ” His voice was strained, and Quirrel readjusted his grip to move his hands to hold up his underarms instead. He set Tiso down on the wall, moving one of his hands and keeping it on his shoulder to make sure he didn’t fall over again.

Tiso sunk his claws into the vegetation behind him, drawing his other hand up to cover his face. “Pass me the walking stick.”

“Alright, sit down though. I would prefer that you didn’t fall over again while I get it.” 

Tiso scoffed, letting himself slide down the plants and onto the floor. 

"Stay there, alright?" Quirrel let go of Tiso's shoulder, standing up and quickly glancing back down at him for a reply.  
Tiso responded with a grunt of acknowledgement, folding his arms back and leaning further against the greenery.

Quirrel spun back around, grabbing his nail by the side of the door and walking out of the cave. His legs dampened with each step he took in the wet moss.

The scenery outside was the same as before, brightly colored green acid poured down from the stone totems surrounding the area and into the pools on the ground, the soft moss reflected brightly off of its surface as it rippled lightly in waves.

As much as Quirrel was one to appreciate the scenery, he opted to just grab the stick leaning onto the side of the house and walk back in. He had a feeling that if he left Tiso alone for a while that he'd get himself into trouble, regardless of where they were.

Swiftly grabbing the wooden stick settled against the foliage, he took a peek at it before returning into the cove. It looked to be carved, hand-crafted maybe? He assumed Ghost must've taken the dusty stick to be touched up by someone, and they'd done a good job. It was painted around the edges and in between the carvings with a bright grey.

Quirrel felt bad that he'd be subjecting such a lovely work of art to the job of becoming a walking stick; dirt would cover it almost entirely after they were done with all the walking he knew would come.

The painting style, although subtle, had a familiar look to it. He had a feeling that he knew who had done the art, but couldn't pinpoint who.

_'Hm.'_ He pushed the thought into the back of his mind; it didn't matter to him.

“Tiso?” He called back into the entrance, peeking inside to see him in the same position as before. He let out a sigh of relief, walking in and holding the stick up for Tiso to see.

A brief look of bewilderment crossed Tiso’s face before he repressed it into his usual irritable expression.  
“ _That’s_ the walking stick they brought?” He moved his head slightly closer to get a better look at it. “It looks like it belongs in a museum. I almost feel bad about using it as a walking tool.” He reached out to feel it, his fingers lightly grazing the engravings in the wood before Quirrel tugged it away from him.

“I do hope you haven’t forgotten that I have to change your gauze again,” Quirrel pointed to Tiso’s waist with the stick. “It’s still bleeding.” 

He was right, the bandages, although not as deeply dyed as before, were covered in various stains of green haemo. 

“Eugh.” Tiso cringed. “When is it going to stop bleeding?”

Quirrel laughed. “As soon as you actually let it!”

Tiso frowned, furrowing his brows as he unfolded his arms and leaned back to allow Quirrel easy access to the gauze wrapped around his midriff.

Quirrel tossed the stick over to the corner of the room, walking back over to Tiso and sitting down next to him, setting the roll of bandages down with him.

He started undoing the dirtied layers. “So, I’m assuming that you still aren’t exactly fit for walking just yet?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on patching up my cut?” Tiso didn’t mean to come off as rude, but he knew the quicker he was patched up, the quicker he’d heal. He didn’t doubt Quirrel could do it swiftly, but he wasn't really one for conversation during times like these.

“Hm. Alright.” 

Quirrel worked quickly, bandaging and fixing up wounds was a normal occurrence for a wanderer like him, and he learned the skill with relative ease. 

Tiso on the other claw, had never been nor let himself be cared for on any degree. He considered himself to be a warrior, and to him, being cared for was the equivalent of admitting defeat. It was _weak._ It hurt his pride more than he’d like to admit, but he knew Quirrel probably thought him to be a formidable warrior. He could allow it this time, right? 

He felt a sting at the left side of his abdomen, and a few of Quirrel’s hushed _‘sorry’_ s’ followed.

He’d never let a bug come this close to him before. Of course, the old colony of ants had to work near each other all the time, but this was different to him, somehow.

It felt weird in a way, a way he didn’t understand. He opted to drop the subject from his mind. He could think about this during a time when Quirrel wasn’t so… close to him. 

He heard Quirrel’s voice pipe up again from behind him. “Lean forward a tad, I still need to patch up your back.” 

He scooted forward a little to allow Quirrel more access, and let his head rest on his own knees. 

He hadn’t let himself rest for a while, either. The only reason he’d allowed himself to rest for the past few days was because he knew he had to heal. Normally, he’d just keep trudging on and hope that a wound would heal by the time he needed it to. But he didn’t feel threatened here, he didn’t need to pull out his weapon and defend himself. Quirrel was—

Shit, wait. Where was his weapon?

Quirrel noticed his shocked expression, tying the last of the bandages together hastily before he leaned over to look at him.

“Are you alright?”

Tiso turned to meet Quirrel’s eyes, his expression slowly faded into one of distress. 

“Where’s my shield.”

“Your…what?” 

“My. Shield.” He repeated, his tone rising in irritation as he fought to keep his breath steady.

“I.. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“My shield! My weapon! I use it to fight?! Where is it?!” He dug his claws into the ground, tears threatened to prick at the corners of his eyes.

He knew he had an attachment to his shield, but not one of _this_ caliber. He needed it to fight, he needed it to defend himself. Fighting was all he did— it was what he lived for. He was already held back enough, the gash through his midriff had made it almost impossible for him to stand up. If he couldn’t even stand up, how could he fight? Without that, who was he?

“I never saw a shield when I found you by the cliff, only a few scraps of metal nearby. I assumed it was just debris..?”

And then Tiso remembered, the broken metal scattering against the sickly ground, various pieces of his broken shield now lay where he had previously stood. The colosseum, right? Where he’d almost died? It broke, it had shattered and been drenched with his own blood. He felt like he was about to throw up. 

“It broke..?” He breathed, his voice barely a whisper. The air in his chest felt like it had suddenly dissipated. 

He could make another one, couldn’t he? Of course, the shield he had made out of the broken down husk of his dead companion could be remade the same. He was sick to his stomach. Why did it mean so much to him? It was a shield. His old friend was dead already. And he had worked so hard to get that shield to be as powerful as it was— to actually work. 

His eyes were watering, tears were threatening to spill against his will.

Alright, he was allowed to be upset, but he shouldn’t cry, he shouldn’t sob-- ‘ _Don’t cry over this! You’re a warrior! Stop it-- Stop it!’_ He clawed at his face, strained whimpers and rapid breaths escaped his lips as the feeling of sharp stinging tears were felt down his face. _‘Stop crying! You’re acting pathetic!’_

He didn’t even care that Quirrel was still sitting across from him, all he was focused on was saving himself the humility of crying at all. ‘ _Stop it! Stop being weak!’_

He was so frustrated, so engrossed in attempting to hold his emotions in that he almost didn’t notice the feeling of Quirrel’s warm carapace now pressed up against his body, a familiar set of arms had gently brought themselves around him and held him in a soft embrace. Despite his entire mind screeching at him not to, he couldn’t help but lean into it. The feeling of being softly held in a comforting grasp, kindly hands caressing lightly at his back to ease the pain and worry screaming through him; it was enough to help him and the overwhelming flood of emotions cool down, even if only somewhat. 

Tiso’s breath was still heavy, his shuddering hands scratched around and gripped onto the familiar shell of the one who held gently onto him. The arms around him did not let go, holding only tighter onto him as they guided his head to settle into what seemed to be the shoulder of the one embracing him. 

Quirrel didn’t mind, he had no clue what Tiso was going through at the moment, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let himself deal with it on his own. He was surprised Tiso hadn’t objected to being cared for yet, but he wasn’t one to ridicule him for that. He needed comfort, and that was okay.

His hand found one of Tiso’s, intertwining their fingers and giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. Tiso let his shaky breath be his response, muttering faint, but still audible _‘sorry’s’_ and various other incomprehensible apologies. 

Quirrel gave his hand another delicate squeeze, hushing him with small _‘shhh’s’_ whispered against the side of his hood. He tried to be as gentle and comforting as possible, as the smallest offset could send him into another spiral. 

He tenderly rubbed his thumb against the back of Tiso’s hand, resting his head gingerly atop of the other's. He let Tiso sob into his shoulder for a few moments, rocking their bodies back and forth as subtly as he could manage. 

Contrary to Quirrel’s belief that Tiso had bottled his pains and worries up as tightly as he could, he seemed to not care about how many tears he was shedding on his acquaintances’-- no, _friend’s_ shoulder. Maybe he truly was warming up to Quirrel.

“Are you doing alright?” His voice was spoken no higher than a whisper, his thumb continuing to rub softly on the back of other’s hand.

Tiso’s breathing was becoming slightly more adjusted as he attempted to speak, a choked cry slipping out first. “NNnnnnh..” Was all that Tiso was able to let out, shoving his head a bit deeper into the crook of Quirrel’s neck. (Or at least the little crook of the neck that he had.)

“Shhh.. You’re safe, I promise.”

“...Why?”

“Hmm?”

“..Why are you--” A jagged sob escaped his lips. “Why are you helping me..?”

Of course he’d ask that. Although he hadn’t spent much time with him before this, it wasn’t difficult for Quirrel to know that they didn’t exactly share the same morals, a selfless act from him would most likely be questioned by the other in a rude fashion. 

For whatever reason, he doubted that was related to what Tiso was asking him.

He had been nothing but a nuisance, so why did he decide to help him? He’d devoted his energy to making sure he was well-fed and healed enough by the next day, all while Tiso returned nothing but a rude demeanor and a stubborn attitude. 

To put it simply, he mattered to Quirrel. Despite everything Tiso had done to burden him and try to get him to quit caring, with Tiso now willingly curled up in his arms, his repressed tears rolling down the back of his ragged shell, he knew that he wanted to help him. He would not stop caring. It was incredibly unhealthy of Tiso to suppress his emotions like this, and if Quirrel was going to be the help he needed to realize that he had to get a healthy outlet, so be it. Of course, he would not push or pry for him to, they’d come out when they needed to.

“Well, for one, you wouldn’t be able to live with that cut through your waist.” Quirrel paused, moving his free arm up to gingerly pat the top of Tiso’s hood. “And two, why wouldn’t I? You aren’t a bad person. I know you may be a little rude,” Tiso scoffed, interrupting Quirrel’s talking as he opened one of his eyes to look up at him with an unamused glare. Quirrel couldn’t help but internally smile at this. He was already back up with his stubborn antics. 

He continued, “...but you are deserving of help and comfort, regardless of whatever you think on the matter.”

An unconvinced “Mmhm.” was Tiso’s response. Both of his eyes were opened now, and even though they were still slightly glazed over with his tears, he looked okay. 

A certain aching feeling itched at Quirrel, and suddenly he did not feel like letting go of Tiso’s hand just yet.

“If you feel you want to rest here, I will not judge you.”

“I’m not..tired.” Tiso muttered, moving his head up, his hood slightly drooping over his face. “Even if I was, I would never forgive myself if I let myself sleep on some..” His voice trailed off for a moment before Tiso shot up from Quirrel’s lap, the realization of where he was lying seemed to have hit him at that moment. 

Quirrel couldn’t help but internally curse when Tiso’s hand ripped away from his own.

The ant’s face was flushed with such a heavy crimson that it was completely noticeable. Quirrel didn’t comment on it.

“I-I’m-- Uhm-” Tiso coughed, quickly turning his head down and fixing his gaze on the ground. “Sorry, I just- I am tired, actually. I’m just- I’m going to sleep.” He shakily pointed to the other side of the cove. “Ov-over there.”

Quirrel let his hands fall back down to the floor. He was taken slightly aback, did he cross Tiso’s boundaries with the embrace? But Tiso was okay with it, wasn’t he? Maybe he’d misread his mood. Ah, he’d try to be more careful next time, then. 

“Alright, I apologize if I crossed any boundaries.” Quirrel scooted back to the wall closest to him. “I understand if you wish not to speak to me for the rest of the night.”

“No! I mean-- no, you didn’t, I just- I prefer to sleep by myself.” 

A highly uncomfortable silence filled the area, the only noise being the repetitive sound of water droplets slipping through the cracks of the cove and onto the dampened moss. After a few seconds passed (which had felt more like hours), Quirrel decided to attempt to relieve some of the odd tension by chiming in. He cleared his throat, trying to find the words to break the silence.

“...Well, please do get some rest, then. I suspect you may have a small fever as well, your face seems to be... a lot warmer than usual.” He started, reaching his hand up to Tiso’s forehead. He stopped before he reached it, lowering his hand back down to the ground before uttering a small apology. 

Tiso moved back swiftly, still avoiding eye contact with the other.

In his attempt to relieve the tension, he only created more. Tiso might not be the smartest in the world, but he wasn’t stupid; he could tell Quirrel wasn’t over the momentary embrace they had shared, and to be fair, he wasn’t exactly over it either. He’d think about it later, he had time.

“I suggest you go to sleep soon, it looks as though you can barely keep your eyes open.” 

“...” 

Tiso continued to glare at the ground, though half-lidded, he could tell Quirrel was still looking at him. Physically, he felt like he was about to crash. Mentally, thoughts were racing through his brain rapidly, the feeling was almost overwhelming.

Tiso stayed silent and pushed himself off the ground, limping over to a farther side of the cave. 

He winced with each step. At least it didn’t hurt as much as before. 

Laying down on the greenery, shifting to find a position that was at least a bit more comfortable than the last, he could hear Quirrel settling down for bed himself. He looked drained as well, but he wasn’t the one with a gash the size of his forearm cutting through his abdomen.

He heard Quirrel’s voice from the other side of the cove. “Sleep well, Tiso. You need it.”

Boy, did he. But was he going to? Not a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit longer than usual, sorry! Had a ton of ideas and decided to cram them all into one chapter.  
> The next may be a bit shorter because of this!!  
> Yet again beta-read by @/frozen.hotdogs on insta!


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